Learn to be still
by Delwyn
Summary: Sam will do anything for his brother. He always has. But this time he finds himself in an unusual predicament, facing a hard choice. Will he consider the easy way out or will he do things the hard way? Well, this is Sam we are talking about!
1. Prologue

My first attempt at something like this, basically to work my way around a writer's block. English is not my native language and I do not have a Beta, be warned!

The title and lyrics are by The Eagles. I do not own anything from Supernatural or the song. Just borrowing!

Despite appearances, this is not a Deathfic.

_Learn to be st__ill_

_Though the world is torn and shaken_

_Even if your heart is breaking_

_It's waiting for you to awaken_

_And someday you will_

_Learn to be still _

The Eagles

"It's the only way," muttered Sam, his slightly dazed eyes focussed on his brother.

"Sam, what…"

Dean's eyes widened when Sam raised his gun to his temple.

"It showed me, Dean. Only one of us can leave." His eyes were still on Dean's face, willing him to understand. The gun was heavy and cold in his hand. "The only way," he said again. "You or me."

Dean ran forward to stop him, but Sam was faster.

The only way.

He pulled the trigger.

Dean caught him before he hit the ground, his eyes still open and staring without focus at his brother's face.


	2. Pale

The title and lyrics are by Within Temptation. I do not own anything from Supernatural or the song. Just borrowing!

Pale

_Have to fight_

_to break free from the thoughts in my mind._

_Use the time that I have_

_I can't say goodbye_

_Have to make it right._

Within Temptation

So this was death?

Huh.

Never knew it smelled like that. It wasn't really the first time he had died (and it was just plain weird saying it like that), but he didn't remember the smell. Flowers. Too sweet to be nice. Sam blinked uncertainly in the darkness. Something was not right. This didn't feel like dying. It didn't feel like hell either and he was pretty sure that was the place he supposed to be going.

Soft carpet under his bare feet. Music softly playing in the background. The smell of flowers…

What the hell?

Or… not hell.

He jumped when someone struck a match behind him. He turned around, his hands raised in defence.

A woman's face smiled at him through the darkness, a thin candle in her hand.

"Sam Winchester," she said softly. "I was hoping to meet you someday. Just not quite so soon."

She lit another candle with the one she held in her hand.

"Who the hell are you?" said Sam sharply.

She gave him a brief look before lighting another candle.

"Wouldn't a better question be, 'where the hell am I?'"

"Fine, where am I?"

"Patience, Sam. I'm getting there."

She moved gracefully around the room, lighting more candles. The darkness lifted a little with each one. To is surprise he found himself in a small but elegant lounge, with a comfortable looking sofa, fluffy white armchairs and heavy red curtains.

The woman was short, easily more than a foot shorter than he was. She was not all that pretty, but not really ugly either. Her long, blond hair looked gold in the light of the candles. She wore a simple black dress with wide sleeves and high heeled boots that made muffled sounds on the red carpet.

She lit the last candle and turned to him. "Well, well, Sam. Have you made a mess of things this time. With the size of your brain they'll be scraping grey sludge of the walls for a long time."

Sam raised his eyebrows. She looked at him like she expected him to answer, but he had no idea what to say. Instead, he looked around the room. There were curtains, but no windows. There was only one door. There was no lock.

"Don't bother with the door, there's nothing behind it anyway." She smiled sweetly. "Not until you make your choice."

"What choice?" he asked, feeling rather annoyed.

She sat down in one of the armchairs and gracefully crossed her legs. Once again, she didn't answer his question. Sam didn't move, his already strained patience wearing thin. "Look lady, I don't know who you are, but…"  
"Take a wild guess," she said cheerfully. "They always say you are the smart one."

He threw his hands up in frustration. "You are…"

"…annoying. Yes, I hear that a lot. Now think."

Realising he was never going to get a clear answer out of her, he forced himself to think. The answer was obvious really. It had already been floating around in his head.

"You're a Reaper," he said after a few seconds.

Her smile widened. "You really are clever! I'm a little higher up the food chain though." She made a vague gesture around the room. "I've goy my own office."

Sam stared at her for a few seconds. She shook her head. "No sense of humour. Pity. Take a seat, I'll explain."

Sam sat down on the very edge of a chair, his eyes still on the Reaper. She smoothed a few wrinkles from her dress. "This place? It's called Limbo. Ring a bell Sammy?"

"Don't call me that," he said automatically, but his stomach clenched. _Limbo_. The portals to hell. Man he was screwed.

"I'll call you anything I damn well like. You're the one who screwed up. You just lost your ticket to heaven, buddy-boy."

He snorted. "I'm pretty sure I didn't have one of those in the first place."  
She shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Fact is, you definitely don't have one now. By lodging a bullet in that pretty head of yours, you won yourself and apointment with me. You did know you go to hell if you kill yourself? The big man upstairs doesn't like people who step out before their time."

"God is gone," said Sam. "We don't know where he is."

"So I heard. It doesn't matter. You won't get to see him, one way or the other."

"I did it to save Dean," said Sam softly. He didn't really know why, but he felt like he needed to defend his actions. "I gave my life to save his, doesn't that count for something?"

She chuckled. "Clever, Sammy. But no unfortunately not. You kill yourself, you go to hell. End of story."

Her smile vanished. "You do know that it was all in your head, right? The ghost made you think you were saving Dean. But you just killed yourself."

Sam froze. "_What?"_

"Close your mouth, it looks stupid," she said sharply. "It was an illusion. Noting more."

"No," he whispered, to horrified to say anything else. "It can't be,"

"Well, it is what it is," she shrugged. "Too late to do anything about it now."

Sam stared down at his hands. _Dean… I left him alone. _He swallowed, suddenly feeling sick. _God, what have I done?_


	3. Frozen

Songs are by Voyage and Within Temptation. I don't own anything from Supernatural or the songs.

Frozen

_Never look back 'cause it hurts_

_My heart is so cold_

_I feel the frost _

_Never look back _

Voyage

Dean pulled his car over near the edge of the small graveyard and killed the engine. For a few minutes he just sat there, staring blankly ahead. Avoiding the rear-view mirror. Avoiding the sight of his brother lying in the backseat.

Dead.

Covered in salt and wrapped up in linen. Ready to be put to rest. He took a shuddering breath. Maybe it was better like this. Sam had no more guilt. No more Lucifer hunting after him. No more apocalypse to worry about. Sam was finally free.

That didn't make it hurt any less.

Lucifer had made no attempt to bring Sam back. Maybe because Sam was hidden from him, maybe because he just didn't want to. Dean had almost wished for the devil to show. But he hadn't. And his brother stayed dead.

"I'm sorry, Sammy," he whispered to the empty space in front of him. "I should have seen it coming. I should have stopped you."

He took a deep breath, the images still spinning through his head. The ghost throwing Sam across the room and grabbing his head with blue sparks on his fingers. Sam raising his gun to his own head.

You or me.

"You know I'd do anything to get you back," muttered Dean. "Anything. But I can't, Sammy. I did it once and you know how well that ended. What's dead should stay dead, even if it's you." He closed his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Sam." The empty passenger seat felt cold beside him.  
"God, I'm so sorry."

* * *

The Reaper cleared her throat. "Anyway, we are not here to establish how stupid you are. You are here to make a choice."

"What choice?"

The Reaper leaned forward slightly in her seat. "You see, suicide isn't exactly a crime that gets the hell-hounds on your ass. Just like any soul that comes here, you have a choice. Move on, to hell that is. Or go back."

"Back where?"

She rolled her eyes. "Earth of course. Though you can't exactly get back in your body. A bullet lodged in you brainstem does that to you."

He stood up. "Then I want to go back."

She raised her hands. "Wait a second Sam, I'm not done yet."

He shook his head. "What else is there to say?"

She stood up and planted her feet firmly apart, her heels digging into the carpet. "Let me spell it out for you, Sam Winchester. If you go back there, you know what you'll become right? A spirit. Maybe you'll be able to help you brother, maybe not. But eventually he will die. In his case probably sooner rather than later. And you'll stay. You'll never be able to move on. You will stay and watch Lucifer turn the world into his personal playground. And I'm warning you, he's got a terrible taste in interior decorating."

Sam huffed. "So it's either hell or hell on earth. Not much of a choice, now is it?"

"You're right, it isn't." She grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the chair with surprising strength. "That is why I have a third option for you. Sit."

He sat down and crossed his arms. "What?"

"Manners Sammy. This is and option I don't give to everybody. In fact, you are the first one. So listen carefully. I can end it. Right here, right now. No hell, no earth. You simply cease to exist. Forever. How does that sound?"

"Boring."

She chuckled. "It does, doesn't it? But think about it. It all ends now. No more apocalypse. No more…"

"No."

"What do you mean, no?" Her smile vanished. "Do you realise what I am offering here?"

"Yes I do." Sam smiled softly. "I get that you are trying to help me. And thank you, really, but I can't accept. I'm sorry."

"Why not?"

He looked away from her. "I left my brother there. I left him because I was stupid enough to let a ghost get the drop on me. I abandoned him. Dean is strong, but I know he'll go to pieces. The last time I left him like this he did something incredibly stupid. I can't let that happen."

"You are a fool, you know that? A stupid, idiotic fool." She stood up and started pacing the room. "Do you think your brother wants this? Do you think he wants you to turn into one of the things he hates? One of the things he hunts? Come on, Sam…"

"I have made my choice," said Sam firmly."

She glared at him. "Well then, what are you waiting for?" She pointed at the door. "I'd hurry up if I were you. He's about to salt and burn you."

_Everything__ will slip away_

_Shattered pieced will remain_

_Where memories fade into emptiness_

_Only time will tell it's tale_

_If it all has been in vain_

Within Temptation


	4. Somebody

The title and lyrics are by The Eagles. I don't own anything from Supernatural or the song.

Somebody

_There's a jack-o-lantern moon,_

_in the midnight sky._

_Somebody's gonna live and somebody's gonna die._

_But down in the graveyard_

_On an old tombstone._

_There's a big black crow_

_And it's calling you home._

The Eagles

Dean stepped out of the Impala and closed the door with a creak. He looked around uncomfortably. The wind whispered through the trees, more like words than he had ever heard before. Or, one word.

"_No__!"_

Spoken in despair.

He shook his head. The lack of sleep was catching up with him. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched. He grabbed a shotgun and stuffed his pockets full of salt rounds. Just in case.  
He put the shotgun on the roof of the Impala and pulled the door open.

"Time to go, Sammy," he whispered. As gently as he could, he pulled his brother's body out of the car and hoisted him onto his shoulders. With one hand he steadied the dead weight and with the other he grabbed the shotgun from the roof of the car. With slow steps he walked to the entrance of the small graveyard. Sam Winchester's final resting place.

* * *

Sam ran to catch up with his brother. Or ran… did ghosts run?

Anyway… he tried to catch up with his brother who was already halfway across the graveyard. He was bent under the weight of what Sam knew to be his own body.

_Yeah… don't think about that one too hard…_

Dean was plodding across the graveyard, ready to set fire to his burden. But Sam couldn't let that happen.

"Dean!"

His brother raised his head and his shotgun simultaneously.

_Crap._

Sam dived out of the way, nut no shot rang out. Dean just stared in his general direction.

_He can't see me._

That was just unbelievable. How was he supposed to stop his brother when he was invisible?

Something caught his eye. On top of an old tombstone a crow was staring at him. It was completely still, it's black feathers nearly translucent. It's tiny eyes shone red. The animal flapped his wings. The graveyard around him grew cold, darkness quickly replacing the twilight. The crow flickered slightly and crowed. The sound echoed unnaturally over the graveyard.

Sam stood frozen to the spot, staring at the ghostly animal. Dean raised his shotgun again, like he had heard something. After a few seconds dropped down on his knees and lowered his burden to the ground. Sam tore his eyes away from the ghostly crow, but before he could move towards his brother a shadowy figure slowly rose from the old grave. It's eyes slid over Sam and he shivered. This was not like any spirit he had ever seen before. And he had seen plenty. This one was… older somehow. It turned away from Sam and fixed it's eyes on Dean.

"Hunter," it whispered.

* * *

Dean struggled to hold his shotgun steady with Sam's weight on his shoulders. Something was wrong. He hadn't slept in days and he had spent all that time grieving over his brother. He was practically asleep on his feet.

But he knew something was wrong. Horribly wrong. The air grew cold and heavy around him, unnatural gloom taking the twilight away. Slowly, he sat down on his knees and gently lowered his brother to the ground.

"Sorry Sammy," he muttered.

He stood up and raised his shotgun again, alarms ringing in his head. There was noting to see, nothing out of the ordinary. Still, he knew something wasn't right. You didn't survive long as a hunter without a decent instinct. And right now his was working overtime.

The smell of ozone filled the air. He swore under his breath. Not now…

"_Hunter…"_

A voice whispered through the trees, the word unmistakable. Dean swore again. How could he possibly defend himself if there was nothing to shoot at?

"Come out, you ugly son of a bitch!"

Nothing happened. If anything, the silence seemed to grow deeper, colder.

Suddenly, the air exploded around him. A scream tore through the air. And a very familiar voice reached his ears.

"_Leave him alone!"_

Even as he fell to the ground, he looked up to see were it had come from, searching for the face that belonged with that voice.

"Sam?"


	5. Hand of Sorrow

The title and Lyrics are by Within Temptation. I don't own anything from Supernatural or the song.

Hand of sorrow

_Please forgive me for the sorrow_

_For leaving you in fear._

_For the dreams we've had to silence, _

_that's all they'll ever be._

_Still I'll be the hand that saves you_

_Though you'll not see that it is me._

Sam sprinted after the sprit as it moved towards his brother.

"Come out, you ugly son of a bitch!"

He almost smiled. No matter what happened, his brother would never change. Always facing danger head on.

The spirit moved faster, it's hands stretched towards Dean. But Dean didn't shoot. He couldn't see it.

"Leave him alone!" shouted Sam and he threw himself on the spirit.

Everything flashed white. He heard the spirit scream as his own energy drained away. Before at all vanished he heard his brother's voice.

"Sam?"

The voice changed.

"Sam?"

Familiar, yet strange. Feminine. Soft.

He opened his eyes. The Reaper from Limbo smiled at him.

"Hey there, hero."

Sam blinked. He was still in the graveyard. Dean was kneeling beside his body a few yards away.

"What…" He paused. Too many questions shot through his head and she probably wouldn't answer a single one of them.

The Reaper smiled again.

"Quite the accomplishment Sammy."

"Excuse me?" Why did she have to speak in riddles? The whole situation was confusing enough.

"You have just done something no man has ever done before. You earned yourself a second chance, fair and square."

"I don't understand."

She held out her hand and pulled him to his feet. "Apparently your heroics are appreciated. Pretty slick, Sammy."

Sam looked at her, not sure what she meant. He knew asking would be useless, so he just kept his mouth shut. She sighed. "Stop looking at me like that. You can get back in there. Free pass, orders from upstairs."

He took a deep breath. "Why?"

"Do I look like I know? It seems someone likes you up there. It has something to do with that sacrificial nature of yours. Apparently it's a good thing to give it all up for someone else. Someone decided to reward you for it. I've got orders to get you up and breathing again."

He looked away from her. "Who gave you the order? Heaven or Hell?"

She shook her head. "I honestly don't know Sam. I just follow orders. Well most of the time, anyway."

Sam turned away. The offer was tempting, certainly, but he knew she wasn't telling him everything. And back from the dead was never a good thing. He had learned that the hard way.

"This isn't right," he said quietly. "You don't just walk away from death. I should know. So tell me, what's the catch?"

"Oh come on!" She made a furious gesture with her hands. "Didn't you hear me? You can go back, you can live. Why do you have to question everything?"

"Because it's wrong." He turned around and looked her in the eyes. "You know more than you are telling me. What's the catch?"

"Sam…"

"What's the catch? Just tell me!"

She averted her eyes. "Alright! You really are a stubborn idiot, you know that?" She took a deep breath. "There are no orders to get you back into your body. The only one who wants you up and breathing again is me."

He raised his eyebrows. "Why?"

She smiled, still looking at the ground. "I have been watching you and your brother for a long time, Sam. It makes for some great entertainment. Bucket of popcorn, invite a few friends over." She hesitated. "I… I don't like what is happening to the world right now. And I think you and your brother are the only ones who can stop it. But you need to be up and breathing to do that, so…"

"Then why did you offer to end it for me?"

She looked up. "Do you realize what I am risking to get you back in your meat-suit? I anyone finds out I am toast. Probably literally. I wasn't ready to do that, but I didn't want you to end up in hell either." She looked away from him again. "I like you, Sam. I didn't want you at the mercy of those bastards down under. When I realized you were giving up your only chance at peace to help your brother I…" She shook her head. "I didn't want you to die. I think you deserve to live."

For a moment, Sam was lost for words.

"Do you really mean that?" he whispered finally. "Will you do that for me?"

"Of course. You earned it, Sammy."

He smiled faintly. "What's your name?"

She hesitated. Sam half expected a snippy retort, but her eyes softened.

"Jenna."

"Thank you, Jenna," he said sincerely. "For everything."

"Don't go all soppy on me now!" She smiled. "You're welcome."

She reached out and touched his forehead. "Goodbye Sam."


	6. Utopia

Last chapter! The response to this story has been wonderful, thank you so much! I've had a great time writing and publishing this. You'll hear from me soon.

The title and lyrics are by Within Temptation. I don't own anything from Supernatural or the song.

Utopia

_  
I'm dreaming in colours, no boundaries are there._

_Dreaming the dream we all seem to share_

_In search of the door to hope in your mind. _

_In search of the cure of mankind._

_Help us we're drowning, so closed up inside._

_Why does it rain down on Utopia?_

_Why does it have to kill the idea of who we are?_

Within Temptation

Dean was sitting on the damp ground beside Sam's body. He had no idea what had happened. He was certain he had heard his brother's voice. But now it was all gone. The air felt lighter around him, the stars shining brightly over his head. The graveyard was silent and peaceful.

He looked down at his brother's body.

There was nothing left to say to him.

Nothing left.

All tears were spent. All there was now was a emptiness. A dark pit where Sam used to be.

Dean flicked on his lighter.

"Goodbye, Sam." He paused for a second, the flame reflected in his eyes. He'd set plenty of things on fire in his life, but it had never been harder than this. He knew this moment would haunt him in his dreams for a long time. "Goodbye," he whispered again and lowered his hand to the empty shell in front of him.

A small gasp startled him. For a second, he didn't know where it had come from. Then, Sam moved.

_He moved!  
_Dean flung his lighter away and started ripping at the thick layers of cloth covering his brother's face. He could hear Sam gasping for air.

"Hold on, Sammy."

He ripped the linen away and looked into his brother's panicked eyes. _Living_ eyes.

"I've got you."

He pulled out his knife and sliced through the rest of the fabric.

"Dean?" The voice was tiny, uncertain, but it was _there_.

"Don't worry, Sam. It's okay."

He tore the last layers of cloth away and pulled his brother into a tight hug.

"I've got you."

* * *

Sam pulled the old blanket a little tighter around is shoulders and shivered. He was sitting in the front seat of the Impala with engine running and the heat up as far as it would go. He was still cold. Apparently being dead does that to you. He shivered again.

_Dead_.

He had actually been dead. Again. And now he was back.

He shifted a little in the leather seat. Back from the dead was never a good thing. Though this time he really didn't know how it had happened. He didn't even remember the spirit that had made him take his own life. The only reminder of that was the ugly mark on the side of his head. And the headache. He closed his eyes and leaned back. Something had happened. He knew it. Something had brought him back. There were really not that many things able to do that.

Dean swore he had nothing to do with it. No deal, no demons. He had been ready to let go. But somehow, Sam was back. It all felt horribly wrong.

Dean was outside, talking on his phone. Brief snatches of conversation drifted into the car.

"… I don't know, Bobby."

"… don't look at me, I didn't do anything."

"…doesn't remember…"

"…possible, but…"

Sam buried his ears in the blanket. Right now he didn't even want to think about it. Thinking hurt too much. Besides, there was really only one… thing that could have brought him back.

_Lucifer._

Yep… definitely not thinking about that one.

Dean put his phone in his pocket. He could still call Castiel, see what he knew. But not right now. Sam was sitting in the car, looking pale and tired.  
Alive.

That was all that mattered. As far as he could tell nobody had made a deal for his brother. There were only a few people who knew he was dead and they all knew better than that. Sam didn't remember anything. He just… woke up.

Dean got into the car and closed the door. Sam looked down at his knees, lost in thought. Dean cleared his throat. "Man, are you going to have a cool scar."

Sam smiled faintly. "I have a dent in my head, Dean."

"It's better than a bullet hole."

Sam closed his eyes. "This is wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"I was _dead_. I should have…"

Dean put a hand on his arm. "Don't talk like that. You're back now, that's all that matters." Even as he said it, he knew it wasn't true. People didn't just wake up after being dead. There had to be something behind it. And whatever it was, it was powerful.

Sam didn't say anything. He just stared at his knees, the blanket pulled tightly around his shoulders.

"How's your head?" The scar really looked awful. It was a good thing Sam's hair was so long.

"Sore," Sam looked up. "Do you think it was Lucifer?"

Now it was Dean's turn to look away. "It's possible."

An uncomfortable silence fell. Dean looked out of the windshield. The graveyard was dark and empty. The moon cast long shadows onto the road. It looked strangely peaceful. No sign anything had ever happened.

"Hey Sam?" he said softly. "We'll figure this out. I'll call Cas in the morning, see if he knows anything. Just don't worry alright?"

Sam nodded faintly, his eyes once again fixed on his knees.

Dean pulled the car onto the road. "Let's get you to a motel. You look like death warmed over."

Sam smiled. "Probably because I am."

"Get some sleep, Sam. I'll wake you when we get to the motel."

Sam leaned his head against the window. Dean looked at him from the corner of his eye. No matter what had happened, it was damn good to have his brother back.

He didn't notice the Reaper standing in the shadow of the trees, staring after the black car as it vanished into the night.

End


End file.
